Remember Who I Am
by scully-hearts-roslin
Summary: In an AU mini series time line, this story explores Laura's path immediately after her return to a non-nuked Caprica. Pairing Roslin/Adar.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Laura Roslin has a summer house in my head. She feels comfy here. Go Mary for owning her.  
Ficlet inspired by an entry/thread back on LiveJournal. **Pairing: **Roslin/Adar (though no smut). Please don't sue me if you didn't know that Laura & Adar were an item - although I smelled the rat in the mini series already it wasn't my idea and happened a loooong time ago. ;o) **Setting:** AU mini series.  
**Summary:** An attempt to explore Laura's immediate path after her return to Caprica (had the colonies not been nuked).

* * *

**Remember Who I Am**  
**  
**Laura smiled when the driver dropped her off at the gate. Twenty cubees for a cab - it was worth getting home unnoticed.  
When she opened the door, everything was the way she had left it. Her morning paper on the couch, a week old now or only days - she had lost track of time. Her smile was faint, the familiar smell of her house reassuring. She was tired. She was lonely. It felt good to be back.

Setting down her bags, Laura allowed the door to fall shut behind her and closed her eyes along with it. She welcomed the silence. Her migraine-stricken head came to rest after all.

Walking away from the door after seconds or maybe minutes, she left her bags untouched, blocking the door. She couldn't have cared less. Tumbling towards the couch, Laura wiped off the paper with a brush of her hand and gave in to a sudden wave of sleepiness. Lying down, it was as if she lost control over everything around her. She giggled. Too tired to even go over the past few days now, too jet-lagged to think, too numb, it was pointless to sift through all the pictures in her head. Darkness, faces, laughter, pain - Laura felt dizzy. She felt lost. It was her alone in a room without windows or doors. She felt trapped. She felt haunted by a presence that wasn't there.

She jumped.

It was an hour later. A full hour she had slept - now fully worn out.

It was another hour that passed and Laura drifted in and out of sleep. A blanket around her feet gave her warmth. It was his voice that startled her. His voice so distant on her machine. Did the phone even ring? She was unsure.  
When she woke again she heard the ring - hammering her awake. The throbbing blood in her head made her feel like an ambos. His voice was calm and controlled. He knew she was back. She was relieved. She was also annoyed. She didn't want to see him.

The third call came late at night. Her aide. _Boy got nerve_, Laura frowned. She felt guilty right away.

It was a shower the next day that gave her strength enough to face the light outside. Her head was better, her body ached - she wasn't hungry for anything. When she slipped into her heels and grabbed her jacket, Laura avoided an all to close look in the mirror. Gulping down her meds with some tea, she waited for the Chamalla to kick in before she walked the few blocks to her office. She didn't really feel like going inside and checked her messages after a short moment of relief. Her name was still on the office door. She hadn't been erased just yet.

It took her a minute to skim through all the notes on her aide's front desk until she found it. His handwriting. _Please come to see me_. No time. No place. _Richard_. She tossed it in her pocket and left.

It took her twice as long to get to his office. The detour she took was both unnecessary and essential.  
When she finally arrived to greet his secretary, she half expected to find boxes with her stuff on a table by the door. The door was open, she was let in. The door was shut behind her. Everything discreet. Business as usual.

The lights were blinding her the way they sometimes did on sunny days like this. She blinked.

"Laura." His voice was controlled in his concern. She nodded. "How was your trip."

"Okay." She walked closer to his desk and took a seat.

"We need to talk." And there it was: silence.

The look in his eyes was hard to read - uneasiness, pride. The kind of mix he was unable to hide. At least from her.

"What do you want me to say, Richard?" Her voice was calm when it cut through the discomfort in the room. It was as if she had never left.

"I cannot keep you on. Not like this." His desk gave him shelter.

"Do you really think I will take this lying down?" Laura's eyes made it impossible for him to look away.

"All I am expecting you to do is to step aside to resume your work in another capacity." He tried to fake a smile. "We really need your ideas. I'm just trying to do what's best for this administration."

Laura chuckled. "What's best for this administration? When was the last time you worried about the members of your precious administration? All you are concerned about right now is your legacy. That's all there is. Your legacy. What you will be remembered for."

She got up. "I'm not sure how firing your Secretary of Education for settling a strike that could very well have escalated fits in there - but maybe you're following your own logic. Like you always do when you're stuck."

"This has nothing to do with the legacy of my work, Laura." Richard looked up at her with stony eyes.

"Your work, there you have it! This isn't about you, Richard. This strike had nothing to do with you! Are you really too stubborn to get it? This strike was about our children, about their teachers, about their work. About our future!"

"Oh c'mon, Laura. Even you are not buying into that crap. Our children, our future. They wanted to be heard, I am fine with that. But they chained themselves to buildings, they used _our_ children for their cause. They were willing to fire first. So don't blame me for going up against them!"

"They agreed to sit down and talk." Laura walked away from his desk to calm her anger. "That's the kind of sign you didn't want? That's giving them a sign of weakness, to agree to meet with them? How is that weak, Richard, tell me that? How is it better to send in troops of armed people to deal with teachers? How?" Her voice was upset.

"I'm not talking to you like this." Richard walked around his desk to meet her halfway to the door.

"Oh yes you are because I am not going to step down from anything." Laura closed the gap between them. "Don't you remember when we wanted to make a difference. When you told me about all your noble plans to improve working conditions in Caprica City? Don't you remember where you came from? You and me, all of us? All of us before the corruption and the accusations and the... the lies!" Laura sought his eyes. "Don't you have any of that left in you? Don't you have any of the passion left in you to fight for the things that could actually make a difference?"

Reaching out to her, Richard pulled her close. "You've been in the room with me, sat by my side in endless discussions with the Quorum of Twelve. You know how it works, Laura. I have six months left to serve. Don't ask me to do the right thing. You know that's a luxury."

Laura shook her head.

"I can't believe what you're saying. Is there anything left for you to believe in because clearly you don't have faith in me either." She tried to walk away from him. He held her close.

"I believe in what we have, Laura." His fingers brushed her collar bone and jaw.

"And what is that?" She closed her eyes and wished him away. She hated how he made her feel - so deeply torn and fragile.

He kissed her - his lips so careful when they touched her skin. His tongue eager to dance with hers the way he had once been willing to dance with her on political grounds.

Laura nodded to herself. No answer. He simply didn't have an answer. And once again she knew she had to get away from it all. Maybe tomorrow she would. Maybe tomorrow she could. Maybe tomorrow she would be able to say no to him. Maybe tomorrow she would let him know.

When his note arrived the next day she knew she would stay. Again. _Case closed_. _Deal off. You're on_. His kind of apology. She hated how he always got his way like this. She preferred to have it her way.

Resting behind her desk, Laura tried to smile when her aide walked up to her, Chamalla in hand. "Did you tell him?"

"Not just yet."


	2. Chapter 2

"You summoned me?" Laura's voice was less playful than intended when she walked into his office.

Richard smiled at the way she waved off her own remark and closed the door.

"I'm glad you came."

"Did I have much of a choice in the matter?" Laura allowed his hand to caress her lower back.

"If someone does it's you." He made his point by giving her a moment to protest before he buried his hands in her skirt and under her blouse.

Laura closed her eyes. She had willed herself to end her relationship with him. She had resisted him for the longest time. It was useless to fight two wars at once. She had to realize that. Love or not, she enjoyed the moments of pleasure he gave her in those stolen moments behind closed doors. She used to despise herself for being so easy with him, scolded herself for everything he made her do. That's what she quit. No more regrets. Just her with him – hands, lips, tongue. She needed him, his adoration, needed the life he filled her with, the warmth, the sweat. Her name moaned, released from his throat, born so deep within his pores that she felt the vibration of every syllable against her body.

Laura gasped - no sound, no proof, no giving into a deceitful luxury of solitude. His hands travelled to her breasts and down, another gasp, a tickle - pain.

Richard released her from his embrace with a worried look on his face. Steadying herself againgst the wall, Laura bit her lips and shed a tear. Her face turned away from him – she looked for shelter.

"What's wrong?" Richard asked with hesitance in his voice.

"Nothing you should worry about," Laura tugged her blouse back into her skirt, her hands shaking.

"Too late for that," Richard picked up the phone to call for help.

"Don't!" Laura stopped him. "I don't need an ambulance just yet."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The President tried to bore his eyes into her. Her gaze avoided his, he played along, played her game, full of hope to get the answer he was waiting for.

"I'm fine," Laura shrugged him off, relieved about the Chamalla in her bag and the water she had brought.

"If you don't want to talk about this, I'll have to accept that. But please don't think that you have to lie to me, Laura." Richard sat down behind his desk, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I'm not lying to you." Laura allowed herself to fall into a chair across from him. She gulped down a pill, then two, the weight of his gaze heavy on her like a burden.

He waited – his eyes lingering on her body, frailer than before, shielding herself from his reaction, his concern.

"What do you want me to say, Richard?" Laura put down the water on his desk. She looked into his eyes, looked deep down into his eyes to find an answer to a question that was haunting her at nights. Would he leave her? Would he let her fall? Would he leave her nothing of what she had found she needed more than anythting – a job, her daily task, making love to him? It was obscure, imperfect, their twisted kind of love always unfulfilled on some level, complicated, less than everything yet more than nothing. Laura frowned, more at herself and her raging mind than his never-flinching eyes that met her gaze with curiosity and suspicion.

"The truth, Laura. Tell me what's going on." He remained in his seat, his face relaxed yet alert, like the President in a meeting about war and peace.

"You've never been big on the truth, Richard. Why change your pattern now?" She tried to humor him. She failed. "So lying for you is fine, but lying to you isn't?" Laura shook her head. He didn't move his eyes away from her, had pierced her down in that chair right across from him. His hands folded on his desk, close enough to reach for hers – Laura gasped. The shortness of her breath was sudden – she hadn't told anybody so far, didn't want to. Billy's guess had been bad enough but this was different. She trembled. "I have cancer," she mumbled under her breath. "Four months left now. Terminal." She added quickly. His eyes different now, darker somehow, shocked. His face a mask – untouched, controlled. His voice lost. He cared – that's how she knew.

Minutes passed until he moved up from his seat, away from his desk. He needed space, walked to a window by his desk, stared into nothing. Laura tried to speak – a whisper, she cleared her throat, then her voice – shaky, then stronger again. She didn't like to be exposed like this.

"I didn't want you to... I don't know. I don't know what else to say." She turned towards him, his back bent down a little, his shoulders stiff.

"You didn't mean to tell me," Richard asked calmly. The reflection of his face in the window told Laura more than his voice so small and quiet.

"What good is it now that you know?" Laura met his tone.

"Four months?" It was a statement rather than a question. "Since when do you know?"

Laura shook her head.

"Since when do you know?" Richard turned around to face her. His knees were weaker than before. "Your cancer education program... You started it four weeks ago."

"You know that my mother died of cancer, I always wanted to..."

Richard interrupted her. "Bullshit, Laura! You told me off about my legacy and now you, you..." He gulped. "Now you tell me that you will die?" He was upset. "What did you fight for, Laura? All those weeks ago, did you know? Did you know that you would die on the day you made that deal with Stance? The day you fought with me to keep your job? The day I thought you would walk out on me?"

Laura looked at him in awe. She had expected him to be mad, cold even, the kind of commiserative she resented so much. She had not expected him to hurt. His rage surprised her, his tears – one stubborn tear on his cheeks, then another one until there were too many to count. Laura got up to offer him her arms. The patient as the comforter. She knew the routine, had seen her mother act that way so many times. That was why she didn't want people to know. She was selfish like that. She didn't have the strength. She was the sick one, no one else. She would die, leave this place, cease to exist. Her, not them, not him. Laura closed her eyes to bite down her own tears. Arms around him she stood – seconds, minutes, a moment longer than he thought she would. When his tears dried, he pushed her away only to gather her in his arms. He felt every inch of her skin, her heart pounding in her chest. Laura breathed the scent of him through her nose and mouth – the taste of him on her tongue and lips, she buried her face in his neck. A kiss, stolen from him before he let go. A smile so sad on his lips, his hands clingy around her waist.

"So this is it? A cause is what you fight for but not your life?" Resignation – his voice gave him away.

"I'm fighting for what I can get." Her smile was sad like his.

"Did you even try?" He looked at her with doubt and closed his eyes when she touched his face with her fingertips. So gentle, so soft – she explored the lines on his face, caught the last drop of his tears with her thumb.

"Years ago I tried to get something that wasn't for me. I chased after an image of what I thought I wanted. A family I used to have. I found you. I deserved what you gave me and everything you didn't. I deserved this job I never asked for with all its pitfalls and benefits. It's is alright. This is alright as long as I get to do some of the things I wanted to do. Do something right, make a difference. If not for me, at least for others."

Her throat was dry when she spoke, her voice surprisingly calm. "I missed so much over the years, Richard. I can't blame you. It was my job, it was myself. I chose to be with you, I chose to stay every time I thought that I should leave. I can't. Not even now. So please don't make me. Let's say this means more to me than I thought it did. My job, all of this. I just don't want to be the cancer victim or the patient. I want to be me for as long as I can. Do you understand?"

Richard nodded. "So where do we go from here?"

Laura squeezed his hand in that gentle way of hers and sat down in the chair in front of him. "You _summoned_ me. You wanted to talk to me."

He nodded again. "It all seems so insignificant right now."

"I like insignificant, tell me more." Laura pleaded.

Richard walked behind his desk, his voice presidential now which made her smile. "Cylon agents were caught in Caprica City. They wanted to get access to the defense main frame. Gaius Baltar turned them in."

Laura shook her head, afraid to ask.

"I know," Richard went on. "It seems they wanted to attack the Colonies, all of them at once. Can you imagine that? A couple of weeks ago all of our lives could've changed. They had nukes. The military found them. Secret operation which never happened if you know what I mean. Seems we are safe now, but what if they had gone through with it? What then? A Cylon attack, a genocide? I just cannot stop thinking about that."

Laura stared ahead. The possibility of the scenario scared her. It was unsettling to know that she might have died four weeks ago. Unsettling because she wondered what difference it would've made for her. What would've changed? After all, dead was dead – or wasn't it?


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of her voice was different – his ears were sensitive like that these days. She sounded raw, husky even, hoarse. He tried to hide his concern from the press, kept his hands under the table, resisted to touch her trembling arm. She had one of her bad days. It showed.

She smiled at him with tired eyes – a trip to Tauron was her cover, a jet lag her excuse. If only he could believe the lie. Instead he worried, found his face paler than hers, more lines around his eyes. He mourned his job, three months to go – the members of the press had found their theory. He nurtured false assumptions.

Laura smiled, smiled at him and clapped her hands. Everything slowed down around her. Richard nodded and got up. A hug, a kiss on her cheeks and she sat down. _I deserved what you gave me and everything you didn't._ It was his turn now. He stared at her. A heartbeat, then another - Laura looked at him until he spoke. "Thank you, Madam Secretary." More silence before his speech began.

"_Madam Secretary?" Billy Kekeiya poked in his head. "The President on line one."_

"_He can wait," the smile on Laura Roslin's face told him more than he intended to know. _

_Spotting the uneasiness on her aide's face, Laura waved off her own remark and nodded. Her sign for him to connect her. Had she ever been that innocent herself? The sound of his voice reassured her that if ever, she wasn't anymore. _

"_Laura, did you..." _

"_What the frak do you think you're doing?" She cut him off right away. _

"_So you got the papers?"_

"_Now don't you know me well," her tongue hissed at him like a canon loaded with sarcasm._

"_It was, ..."_

_Don't you dare play the it-was-a-mistake, forget-about-it, my-fault card now. There's just so much I can take of that," Laura was upset. "I thought the deal was off."_

"_It is." Richard tried to soothe her._

"_The documents tell another story."_

"_I signed them, I know." He sighed._

"_These are not some of your dear-fellow-citizens letters you should've signed without reading..."_

"_The Attorney General decided to go against me in the matter." It was a statement rather than an apology._

"_Against the President of the Colonies? Rodney is reckless, he's not suicidal." Laura shook her head._

"_Wouldn't be the first member of my administration to go up against me."_

"_Oh, come on! You could've ordered him to drop it." Laura voiced her boiling anger. _

"_I ordered you, too, remember?"_

_Laura paused. "I never asked you to treat me differently."_

"_You make it hard not to," Richard answered calmly. _

_The silence that feel upon them was familiar and unpleasant._

"_I need to see you tonight," his voice was almost pleading her. "Please. I need to talk to you in person." He whispered in the receiver and listened to her breathing. _

"_Laura?"_

"_Where are you right now?" Laura asked after a while._

"_Headed to the Quorum of Twelve, budget meeting." He waited for her to reply. "You know these meetings, Laura, you never know how long..."_

"_You asked to see me, not I..." She tried to find the right words. _

"_I will try to..." Richard tried to interrupt her._

"_I am fine, Richard." Her voice was suddenly cold. "Just promise me to stop the charges."_

_The President sighed. "Alright, I got to run."_

"_See you later," Laura whispered. _

"_I'll bring the revised papers."_

"_Of course you will," she waited for him to hang up. Hesitation: a moment too long. She wondered what else he wanted to say until she heard his assistant's voice begging him to run along. Then the click. Gone._

"Before I answer your questions, please let me say thank you, Secretary Roslin," Richard averted his eyes from the press to look at her. Laura faked a smile for the cameras before she noticed what he was doing.

"Without your dedication this agreement would never have been signed." He nodded to the union leader's approving "Hear, hear!".

"This isn't the first time that you saw an opportunity and acted on your instincts to improve a situation for people or a cause you believe in. That is never an easy thing to do for a politician. We have so many wars to fight and lose more often than we win. I admire your resilience, Laura, and your courage."

Stance started to clap his hands.

"An agreement is only as good as the partners who design it. You never lost faith in finding common ground. You never let us step down from our responsibility. You fought for this deal, this new beginning. Your trust and your commitment made it possible for us to present this understanding with the teachers' union."

The union leader stepped up to shake her hand and mouthed a thank you into the cameras.

"An administration consists of many capable partners. Change emerges from ideas. I want to use this moment to acknowledge the effort of every single member of our outgoing administration. Together we have faced many storms. Together we will keep working for change."

Richard leaned in to place a soft kiss onto her cheeks.

"I hate you," Laura whispered onto his neck.

"You're welcome," Richard smiled against her skin and felt a tear running down her face.

"_I asked you not to tell anyone," Laura's voice was sore from coughing. _

"_I didn't." He paced around in his office. "I spoke to a specialist, that's all."_

"_I don't want to see a specialist. I consulted one, the diagnosis was clear." Laura lay down on his couch to rest. _

"_I still don't understand why Diloxin is not an option." Richard tried to plead with her. She only shook her head. _

"_I am not going to discuss this with you again. I am taking the Chamalla. Period." _

"_It might be charming to be stubborn on the job, Laura. It's definitely not a virtue now." He looked at her with stern eyes. _

"_This is not your decision, Richard. This is mine, as Laura Roslin, no title attached. I don't have to ask for your permission." She didn't flinch away from his gaze. "You will have to accept the facts, Richard. I know that's not your strong side, but that's your problem, not mine."_

"_I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm just asking you to embrace other options." He sat down next to her and put up her legs to rest on his. _

"_I carefully weighed my options, Richard, and I'm so tired of having to explain myself to you over and over again."_

"_I'm just trying to support you." He massaged her calves and feet. _

"_And I appreciate it, but let's be clear about this: your concern and your uninformed advice is not helpful." Laura closed her eyes to the relaxing feeling of his hands on her skin. _

_Richard remained silent. He had indeed argued with her on most days in the past two months. Eight weeks of ups and downs, of good days and bad ones, better ones and worse. He had found himself unusually drawn to her – not in a sexual way but otherwise. She had scolded him for pampering her, for praising her work in front of others, something he had long stopped doing before. He knew that she was moody every now and then on most days, grumpy even, sometimes unjust. He used to care until, one day, he found her unconscious in her office. Her cancer scared him, her attitude, her ignorance. Richard tried to talk to her, tried to understand – it always ended with her on a bed or his couch, eyes closed, shutting him out. She was bearing with him, that's what he sometimes felt she did. He stayed anyway, to her surprise and his own. It was one thing to lose the presidency, another to have her slip through his fingers. _

"_Did you talk to Stance?" Laura changed the subject like she used to these days. _

"_I did," Richard sighed. "I'm not sure that we will get what you want."_

"_Just talk to them. There is always common ground." Laura looked at him soothingly. _

"_It's easier when you are there with us in the room. You speak their language. I don't." Richard moved his hands up and down her legs. _

"_Whatever will you do without me?" Laura chuckled but the joke was lost on him. _

"_I don't know." He didn't even try to hide his sadness. _

_Laura cleared her throat – quickly. "Let's get this over with. A good note for your presidency to end on." _

_She smiled at him in that way of hers: wickedly, seductively, innocently. An intoxicating mix. He almost believed that this was her final gift to him. Anything that bought him some time. _

"She has that way of quiet disapproval," Richard answered one of the many questions from the press. "She has her way of getting away with it with a smile."

Laura had a hard time holding it up for the cameras. The flashlights hurt her sensitive eyes, blood was pounding in her head.

The questions had erupted around her after Richard's well-meant stunt. Stance, the union leader, used the moment to further his cause and Richard enjoyed some of his last moments as the hero of the Twelve Colonies. She hated public attention, always had. She was happy to do her job behind the scenes – something Richard had often benefited from but never understood.

"Madam Secretary, ..." A particularly annoying journalist tried to learn too many secrets from her about her work and life. For a moment Laura was tickled enough to drop the bomb, one of the many about the secrets she had grown accustomed to hide. Mistress, lover, affair – there were many words that occupied her mind. Cancer another thought that paralyzed her for a moment too long to go unnoticed by the gossip-trained eyes of the colonial press.

Tauron was brought up again. The negotiation marathon. She nodded and forced herself to smile. She was so tired of the lies. So tired of it all. His presidential smirk, the flowery phrases, the handshakes and the posing. She wanted to run away and yet she stayed.

"_Please don't," her voice sounded annoyed as she shied away from him._

_Richard frowned. He was so tired of being sorry, so tired of her mood swings and the daily ups and downs. He hated to worry, hated to see her stoned although he knew that the Chamalla was easing down her pain and got her through the day. He was irrational, selfish even – he didn't know how to nurse somebody, least of all an unwilling patient, proud and stubborn like Laura. _

_He knew what she would say if he left her now. Not that he hadn't considered it – he had tried to leave her like she said he should. "What took you so long? It's not as if the sex you signed up for is worth it anymore." She was cynical like that these days. _

_She had refused to see him for two full weeks. She wouldn't let him come near her on her worst of days. She wasn't vain – she just didn't want to see him. He wished it would relieve him, the way she turned away from him to suffer alone. He had always disliked the company of sick people – their whining, their pain, their voices. He disliked not seeing her more. _

"_I told you not to come," Laura mirrored the expression on his face. _

"_I wanted to." He followed her into the kitchen. _

"_Did you hear from Stance?" Laura changed the subject as usual._

"_I did." _

"_What did he say?" Laura took the whistling kettle from the stove to brew some tea. _

"_Literally?"_

_Laura suppressed a chuckle and nodded. "So he still thinks you are..."_

"_...a moron, yes. He was quite blunt about that and didn't miss the opportunity to tell me how much he prefers to talk to you."_

"_I'm sorry," Laura smiled at him and pulled the blanket closer around her shaking body. "So no progress at all? Is that what you came here to tell me?"_

_Richard returned her smile with melancholy eyes. "I came here to see how you were doing."_

"_You asked me that on the phone."_

"_Yes, and you lied." Richard observed how she added honey to her tea and tried to shrug him off. "Why don't you call when you need something?"_

"_I don't need anything. I am fine." Laura prepared a second cup of tea – her way of saying that she wanted him to stay. Actions were easier than words sometimes._

_Richard sighed to himself. "So what do we do about the union? I really don't think we'll find a consensus without you."_

_Laura took her cup and walked into her living room. She sat down on her couch and rested her feet under her body in warm socks. "There's always a way."_

_She raised her hand to stop him from applying her words to her own situation. _

"_Then tell me what to do." Richard looked at her. It was the first time he openly asked her how to proceed. He had done so many times – the intelligent woman behind the President. He had never admitted to her how much he valued her ideas though. Only once in a fight he regretted now. It seemed ages ago. Every week a lifetime now. _

"Secretary Roslin," Laura was ripped out of her memories again.

"Excuse me?" Her voice sounded small.

Is it true that you're having an affair with President Adar?"

Laura stared at the cameras for a moment.

"Several sources have hinted..."

"Hinted?" Richard interrupted the journalist who kept addressing Laura.

"It's alright,"she waved him off. "Let him ask his questions."

Richard glared at her longer than he should have to hold his cover.

"Madam Secretary, are you having an affair with the President?" The journalist dared to repeat his question – more demanding than before.

Laura Roslin smiled. It was a warm smile – her headache still pounding, her heartbeat calm like her voice. "Yes."

The silence was abrupt. On the quiet followed a storm – heavy, unrelenting, noisy. Flashlights rained on her, cameras clicked a hundred times a minute, questions overwhelmed her. She heard her name called then his – the press attacked them like vultures. The presidential security detail tried to shield the podium from the outraged mop. Richard stood, paralyzed – he was lost with words for the first time in his career. Laura smiled at him. It felt good to have one secret of her chest. Her smile was apologetic in a way, soft. The kind of smile he couldn't resist.

When she got up, the room around her was bouncing in slow motion. She squeezed his hands with one of hers. The kiss she placed on his haggard face was long and deep.

"I love you." Her lips vibrated against his skin. She was lost in a moment with him alone.

When she let go of his hand, she left. She simply walked away. Able to breathe for the first time in weeks, she shielded her face from the light and the mikes that flooded the room.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you kidding me?" His voice was harsh – rage bubbling on the surface, his anger uncontrolled. "You told them?" The pauses he made were dramatic. He hoped to trigger a reaction, get a response from her. She simply looked at him with tired eyes.

"You frakking told them! Laura, what the hell..." He shook his head. "What were you thinking?" Richard threw his phone on the couch in his hotel room. It was ringing non-stop.

"If you're mad with me, tell me. For frak's sake! You don't just sit in a press conference and admit that you are screwing your boss. You're married boss. The President. The frakking President of the... oh I don't know. Talk to me, Laura! I mean it, talk to me. This has to make some sense. Something I don't see. On some level this has to make sense because I know you. You don't just drop a bomb like that after ten years. After ten years of, of..."

"Of what, Richard?" She interrupted him quietly. "You don't even have a name for what we have."

"That is not true." After thirty minutes he finally stopped pacing.

"Oh isn't it? Then tell me what it is that we do. How do you call it when you frak me in some hotel after a meeting that didn't go your way? How do you call it when you call me late at night to ask me what I wear? How do you call it when you allow your Secretary of Education to give you blow jobs in-between hearings? I'm asking you Richard, how do you call this _us_?"

"Do you hate me that much?" He stared at her, unable to fully grasp her words.

"I don't hate you, Richard." Laura's voice was soft when she got up to close the distance that seemed so cold between them. "I never did."

"Why, Laura? Why?" He allowed her hands to cup his face. His pulse slowed down at her touch.

"I told you." Her thumbs caressed his skin.

Richard laughed. It was a small laugh, desperate in a way. He didn't know what to believe anymore. "You love me..." He whispered to her, eyes closed, his shoulders dropped. He looked small to her for the first time.

When she slipped her arms around his neck, he held her close. He buried his face in her hair, so beautifully soft – he loved the taste of her on his lips when he nuzzled her. Her moan made him smile when he moved his hands up and down her waist and butt. They stood - stood for a while.

"So where do we go from here?" His voice was calm against her skin.

Laura silence was interrupted by his raging phone.

"I should..." Richard freed himself from their embrace enough to look into her eyes.

Laura nodded. "Talk to her. She deserves to know the truth."

A week had passed until the press had finally stopped camping in front of her house. Billy had checked on her mail and messages. Laura was grateful for that. He was discrete, he didn't judge. That was a rare virtue in people of any age.

Richard had offered her to stay at his summer house outside of Caprica City. He had followed her there, suitcases in hand. Laura didn't dare to ask if had moved out on his own.

It was strange to be with him on most days, away from work. A week at home for him was like a month for others. He was fidgety, scanned the papers in spite of the gossip and the lies. It was obvious to everybody now what had been going for years. Advisors, staff, personnel. Everybody knew a secret or a story. It seemed to be common knowledge now that Laura had had an abortion once to cover their affair. It was also a fact that she had been caught naked in the President's bed in his residency on Colonial Day. Moreover, Richard used to call her _sugar_ if he thought they were alone and gave her gifts that were supposed to benefit the First Lady. And numerous interns had caught the President coupling with his Secretary on a copier or printer.

Of course none of this was true. She ignored the lies as best as she could. The stories that included a sparkle of truth affected her more deeply than any of the ridiculous fairy tales. Her so-called abortion: a miscarriage. The memory of it added to her cancer and her pain.

After a week, the storm finally eased down. Richard had asked Wally Grey to leak the information about an averted Cylon attack – the one he had told her about. It was the first time in seven days that Laura felt able to breathe again. She remembered the feeling of shock. She could've been dead. Despite all of what had happened, Laura now knew she didn't want to miss a single day.

She made love to Richard that night. Something had changed. When his skin electrified hers, she closed her eyes and lived in that moment alone. Her with him, his hands around her waist when she dozed off to sleep. His legs entangled with hers when she woke up.

"I love you." The words had fallen from his lips when she had least expected them. He finally let go. Laura smiled when she woke him, his words still fresh in her memory. Her lips kissed his chest and jaw, her fingers played with the curls of his hair on his skin. Richard grumbled.

"Go back to sleep."

Laura rested her head on his shoulder. "I want to see that specialist of yours."

Richard opened his eyes and blinked to adjust to the semi-darkness around them.

"Excuse me?" He moved his arm around her hips. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm ready now."

Richard looked at her, uncertain about what to make of her sudden change of heart.

"You don't believe in Diloxin."

"No, I don't. But what if there's another way?" Her voice sounded hopeful.

"You want to fight?" Richard propped himself up on one arm to look her straight into the eyes.

Laura nodded.

"Why now?"

"I just remembered who I am."


	5. Chapter 5

It was strange to be home again after two weeks in his house. Laura put down her bags and wandered through her rooms. So many empty memories. It was like looking at a life that wasn't hers anymore. She picked up books, vases, pictures. Her mother smiled at her in a silver frame, her sisters on the wall up the stairs. A life different from hers now – a distant past. She enjoyed the silence.

When she lay down on her bed, Laura stared out of the window. She loved to watch the sunshine from inside. Peaceful. Warm. Comforting. She tugged a blanket around herself - her phone unplugged, she dosed off every now and then.

Three days passed without a single word from him. Every step of his covered on the news – his wife had filed for divorce. Every picture published. Every comment scrutinized and dissected.

Billy brought her food and reports until she couldn't take it anymore. She was sick of all the assumptions and the reporters who were back to camp in front of her house. Her quiet little life had turned upside down again.

Laura checked her watch. Another hour until they would pick her up. Her security detail – she now had one. Visible. That was what she minded. She had never noticed the discrete officers at public events or gatherings. This was different.

Laura closed her eyes. His face haunted her at nights. She didn't sleep. The absence of him was hard. She jumped – the knock on the door ripped her away from him in her thoughts.

"Madam Secretary?"

Laura dragged herself to the door. She nodded, grabbed her bag and followed the broad-shouldered men through a narrow tunnel of cameras, microphones and questions. The flashlights hurt her eyes. She almost ran to the car – the door open for her to jump in. A security guard always one step behind her. He closed the door, the car drove off. Billy's smile a welcome gesture of support.

When she sat in the doctor's office, she was edgy and nervous. Her face on most of the magazines in the waiting rooms of the clinic – she already saw the next headlines in her mind.

"The mass is malignant." The doctor looked straight into her eyes.

"We know that," Richard almost snapped. Laura squeezed his hand. She was suddenly the calmest person in the room.

"You said you reject Diloxin treatments, is that still the case, Ms Roslin?"

Laura nodded.

"We are here to find out about alternatives," Richard tried to calm down.

"I can see you've tried Chamalla. How is that working for you?" The doctor focused on his patient.

"It cures the symptoms on most days," Laura answered vaguely.

"So the pain is gone?"

Laura nodded again.

"What about hallucinations? Are you having trouble with those?"

"Sometimes," she answered with a small smile to reassure Richard that she was okay.

"And you came here to look for a miracle drug to cure your cancer six weeks after your diagnosis?" The doctor's voice was factual.

Laura pursed her lips.

"What has changed?"

"Excuse me?" Richard was puzzled.

"I need to know if Ms Roslin is actually willing to embrace new procedures or if she is simply..."

"You want to know if I simply reached my month of fear. I'm not afraid to die, Doctor. I'm way past fear. I want to fight this. I want to fight this cancer that killed my mother. I want to live."

"I see." The doctor paused and checked her charts again. "It would've been easier if you had come in earlier."

"So you've said," Laura returned quietly. Richard's arms around her helped her take in the news. Three days without him. He was there when it counted the most.

It was late when Laura returned home after a long day at the office. The elections made it hard for her to wrap up a lot of unattended cases. She tried her best. She had long given up on pleasing everybody and their dog.

When she closed her bedroom door behind her, she stood motionless for a while. She remembered the appointment with her new doctor. His words kept ringing in her ears. "It's a radical new treatment. You will have to be hospitalized for a while. You won't be able to hide what you're going through." Laura moved over to her closet. She stood again, motionless for minutes, her eyes locked on her reflection in the mirror. The room around her was silent – she indulged in the sound of her heartbeat in her chest, the rhythm of her blood pumping through her veins, the sound of her breath deep and fresh. Her eyes were gentle on her when she started to undress herself in slow motion. Piece by piece, layer by layer, Laura looked at herself until she was naked, untainted. She held her breath and closed her eyes, for a moment. Two. Her hands started touching her skin. She opened her eyes again – the touch of her own fingers rejuvenating. Free from scrutiny or pain. Laura smiled. She loved the roundness of her curves, the feeling of her own flesh that tickled her. When the tears came, she let them fall. It was liberating to just let go.

When Richard arrived hours later to check on her late at night, he found her sitting in front of her mirror. Her arms entangled around her legs, she was curled up to a ball – vulnerable and beautiful.

"Laura?" Richard knelt down beside her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. Her eyes were wide and peaceful when she looked at him.

"Can I get you anything?" Richard asked and sat down next to her.

Laura shook her head.

Richard nodded and placed a kiss onto her head. "All right."

The first week of withdrawal made Laura grumpy and sick. Her body ached, her head was pounding. Every touch was too much for her. It cam in handy that Richard withdrew from her like her system withdrew from the Chamalla.

Responsibility, commitment, partnership – Laura didn't care to ask about his reasons. Deep down she was afraid of the answer she might get. Her tired eyes told her enough to scrutinize about her own decline. She didn't need to hear it.

When she finally went to the hospital, she missed him more than she ever had. She missed his scent, the noise he made when he was around, his presence. She had grown accustomed to being around him more, to him spending the night, to waking up next to him, to brushing her teeth when he was in the shower. In the sterile environment of her hospital bed, Laura craved for more space, a bigger bed, his arms around her after a fight.

It was four weeks now that she hadn't seen him. He was on his farewell tour as the President of the Colonies. He avoided all the questions concerning her or his wife.

She loved to hear his voice when he called – asked him to tell her about his day only to listen to the carefully pronounced words he chose to sound presidential and bigger than he was.

When he finally came to visit her, he did not mention the papers and the gossip about her treatments and an impossible cure. Her chances were at 5%. She knew. There was no need to remind her of that.

"It's hard to let go, isn't it?" Laura smiled at him. Her hands trembled when she touched him. His touch calmed her down.

Richard returned her smile and sat down on her bed.

"It's okay to leave me, you know." Her voice was matter-of-fact. Her eyes gentle when she looked at him.

"Why would I do that?" Richard placed a soft kiss onto her lips.

"You didn't sign up for this." Laura pointed to the tubes in her arms and the pills on her nightstand.

"Are you asking me to go?" He asked calmly.

"You haven't been around much lately."

"I needed some time." Richard got up from her bed and walked around. "I had to figure out a couple of things."

Laura nodded.

"Do you remember when we first made love?"

Richard's voice seemed distant to her. She hummed an absentminded yes.

"It was one of those days that, you know, it wasn't planned." He paused. "You were there. So different. So alluringly different from everyone I'd known. Smart. Sexy in that coy way of yours. A forbidden fruit. I thought it was attraction, never love."

Laura closed her eyes. She tried to ease the anticipated impact of his words.

"I never expected you. Any of what you have given me. Any of _this_. It was easier to see myself as the President of the Twelve Colonies than anything I've had with you. You were not on my list. I didn't plan you. You with me. It just happened."

Laura made a sound so soft yet tortured that Richard moved closer to her again. "I don't adapt so easily to change, you know that. There's a reason why I kept on most of my staff since my early days as mayor. I get used to situations. I get used to people. I got used to you."

Richard sat down on her bed again. His hands caressed her haggard but rosy face. "I needed time to think. I had to figure this out. Us."

Laura opened her eyes again. She cried. "I love you, Laura. I love you more than I knew I did. And I ran away from so many things in the past. I tried to run away from you. I can't."

He wiped away some of her tears with his thumb. "I am so afraid to screw this up like I screwed up my marriage. Do you understand? My marriage was dead before I fell for you and everything you offered me. This is different. It has to be different. So I'm here to tell you that I will not lose you. I won't be President, you won't be my overqualified Secretary of Education. I don't know what we will be, but I do know that I want to be with you. After everything we've been through, after all the nights I didn't spend with you. I'm afraid to not be with you. So I'm asking you to stay with me. What do you say?"

Laura stared at him for a moment. The tears on her face were fresh when she finally kissed him. "I won't marry you." She whispered into his mouth. "I'm not the marrying kind."

Richard chuckled. Just her with him. It was all right.

* * *

_I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories_

Remember the good times that we had?  
I let them slip away from us when things got bad  
How clearly I first saw you smiling in the sun  
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one

I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories

I'm so tired but I cant sleep  
Standing on the edge of something much too deep  
Its funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word  
We are screaming inside, but we cant be heard

But I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories

I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose  
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose  
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night  
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light

And I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories

And I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Dont let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories  
Weep not for the memories

_(Sarah McLachlan) _


End file.
